


Nameless

by Krolowa_Suka



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Destiny Diaries, F/M, Le Diable Blanc, Mutants, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:07:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25595527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krolowa_Suka/pseuds/Krolowa_Suka
Summary: After Gambit takes some time to finally get over Rogue, he takes some time to enjoy the single life.   Meanwhile, the X-Men are going to have to save the world again. This time with a man named Professor Vargas and his mysterious assistant. Can they stop this new sinister plot before it's too late? Be prepared for lots of action and just maybe a bit of romance too. There is no set universe for this fic, and sorry folks, no Romy.





	1. Chapter 1

PROLOGUE

It was such a dark, cold evening that Sister Anne not only lit extra candles on her old wooden oak desk, but she had put a few logs on the fireplace and had set it ablaze. She bundled tighter into the wool blanket draped around her shoulders and began a third time to recite from her bible studies pamphlet. Lightning silently flashed in the distance and the novice nun picked up her head and stared out the large bay window. The sky tonight was a deep, ruddy purple instead of the usual evening navy blue. It was so beautiful, yet almost unnatural. Sister Anne had already noted the color of the sky though, along with the distant lightning flashes. She had looked up because she thought she'd heard a new sound. Almost like a gust of wind, but it had rushed past the window too quickly to be as powerful as it had sounded. She gathered her blanket around her robes so she could stand and approach the window. _I really ought to get back to my studies_ , she thought. Sister Margaret would have her teeth if she couldn't recite the Seven Mysteries of Faith at morning Matins by memory.

A rustling sound from outside jarred Sister Anne out of her thoughts. It was probably a raccoon looking for shelter before the rain came. As she turned away from the window to stoke the fire, she could hear the rain suddenly start to pelt down on the 100 year old roof of the monastery. "God protect us and keep us dry", she silently prayed. As she continued to poke and prod at the logs, she thought she heard a faint, mournful wailing. ' _Probably that poor creature'._ Then came a guttural, lung-filled cry. That was no creature. She dropped the poker to the floor….that was a baby. A very human baby!

Sister Anne's blanket had been abandoned on the floor as she dashed out of the corner study. She ran down the hall, heart racing, all while the rain fell down in buckets outside. She quickly fetched a raincoat that was hanging on a hook by the side door, and she lit the lantern that normally hung there as well. She burst into the black night searching and straining to listen for the crying as the thunder echoed louder and the fast approaching lightning tore through the sky. The wind picked up in gusts and pulled at the long skirt of the Sister's robe. She gently rummaged through the debris in the alleyway as she began to doubt herself. ' _Why on earth would there be an abandoned child out in the alley?'._ It rarely ever happened to begin with and when it did the reluctant guardian normally left them on the front step inside the alcove. There was even a large bell tower in front to ring for assistance.

Sister Anne felt incredibly foolish as she moved her drenched bones around the front just to be sure there was no lonely babe waiting outside for her care. She trudged past the dumpster that stood on the corner of the alley and the front of the old building. As she turned the corner, she finally heard a low and constant cry. The novice was shocked at first and then immediately appalled to find that the cry itself was coming from within the dumpster. In a very un-nunly manner, ' _God please forgive my impropriety',_ she hiked her robes above her knees and climbed up the side of the metal container.

There it was, naked as the morning, lying in who-knows-what filth. Sister Anne carefully balanced her feet on the tiny lip she had climbed onto and bent over the edge to reach the poor babe. It was almost directly in the middle of the dumpster so she had to loosen her grip ever so slightly to stretch farther out. Her right foot lost grip and she slipped down and collapsed onto her stomach on the hard edge. With an "oof!" she did her best to keep her precarious position as she finally reached the crying child. Once in her possession she clutched the precious bundle to her chest and gently climbed back down.

' _Who would ever discard a child in the trash and at a church no less?'._ Thank heaven she had been sitting in the tiny corner study in the front or the child would never have been found alive. As she looked down at the naked baby, she suddenly realized that it was burning with fever from being exposed to the elements. Who knew how sick the child really was after laying in a dumpster. Sister Anne found her feet and dashed towards the front alcove. Without stopping in her tracks, she pulled the thick rope of the bell and charged through the front door. "Sisters! God has called for your mercy this night!"


	2. Ch. 1: I Wear My Sunglasses At Night

Remy Lebeau was devilishly handsome, yet still a little bit gritty in the looks department. He always managed to have a hint of stubble on his angular jaw line and it seemed like his skin was permanently permeated with the addicting scent of cigarette smoke and booze. Still, the man was the ultimate lady-killer. This evening he sat in his usual corner at Luke's Tavern. No uniform tonight. He wore just some faded jeans, black boots, an old Aerosmith shirt, and the brown leather duster that he wouldn't go anywhere without. He had pulled the collar all the way up too. His aviators rested gently on the bridge of his nose, well protecting the unusual coloring of his eyes. Signature red on black, like hot coals in a fire almost. This haunt didn't exactly fit his style, mainly because this was not a mutant friendly hangout, but the bartender had gotten familiar with Remy's tastes and was always attentive. Plus, this bar was packed with all kinds of excitement. All types of people flocked to Luke's every weekend. There was the biker pack, the just barely legal frat boys, a never-ending supply of blondes and cougars, sometimes a midget or two even, but never a mutant. And Remy even kind of liked the fact that he was all alone in that respect here at this bar. Sometimes it could get tiring hanging out in a room full of super-powered people. This bar grounded Remy whenever he was feeling off.

Just then, Remy lifted his head when his spatial awareness alerted him that Brian, the bartender, was looking his way. A slight tap of his index finger on his glass and he knew a fresh whiskey, no rocks, was on its way. He liked his spirits warm. It reminded him of days long past when he & Lapin would sneak out in the night. Lapin would wait outside in the brush until Jean-Luc's light in his study went out. Then he'd start hurling little stones at Remy's window as a signal to get going. Remy himself would jump out of his bed, fully dressed, scarf up his pilfered liquor bottles from the day and hop out the window and down to his waiting cousin. They'd slink off without a sound in one of the old rowboats and wait until they were far enough away from hearing, and end up drinking and rough-housing all night long. Most of the time, they'd lose track of the hours and come skulking back as the sun would peak its head over the horizon. And mostly every time too, Tante Mattie would be sitting on the porch just waiting patiently as she tapped her toe at them. They never got in too much trouble, but neither of the two boys enjoyed being scolded by her.

A shadow unexpectedly cast over Remy and he looked up into Brian's face. His drink was here. "You know man, one day I gotta get my cousin Larry here to see which one of you can drink the other under the table.", said the bartender. He knew he had well over-served the reclusive man with the shades, but Brian had come to learn the guy was no threat. He always saw the guy's bike left sitting in the parking lot when he was closing up on nights like this. He had never started a fight and he had never been rude either. So Brian had never seen a need to cut him off and usually didn't mind bending the rules for him. The guy had some kind of charm about him. Remy flashed him a grin, "Dat sounds like a challenge!"

"My money's on you man. You're a machine." Brian's eyes sparkled just a hint at that, and then the man turned and headed back to man his bustling bar.

Remy took a swig of whiskey and relished it as it coated his throat and left a warm tingling sensation in his stomach. He closed his eyes and smacked his lips together a few times as he began to reminisce again. That usually happened when he was almost 10 double shots in. Actually, Remy had lost count, but he knew he was somewhere around there by now. He'd probably have to leave his bike here tonight and call a cab.

The sound of a fluttery laugh pulled him away from his thoughts. _A new femme._ Remy looked up and scanned the bar. The sloppy blonde with the balloon-sized breasts was still at the left end of the counter taunting every guy that was just barely legal to be there. She nudged one kid with her shoulder, leaning her head into his chest and shamelessly stroked the inside thigh of the man sitting on the other side of her. All while bragging that she knew how to set her nipples on fire, all she needed was 2 matches and a little water. Definitely not Remy's type, and certainly not the owner of the new laugh. Scanning down, every woman was the same as before. The quiet, sad-looking redhead who nursed her sex on the beach all by herself, the 350lb chick that came in every weekend with the same twig of a guy who was barely 5'5". Remy always wondered why they were even a couple, but to each their own he figured! His eyes kept scanning down. Same, same, same. Then he spotted her standing at the other edge of the long bar counter. She politely giggled again as a man with a long dark pony tail whispered something in her ear. Her sparkling eyes darted up and out as she clutched, with white knuckles, onto a briefcase that she held in front of her.

Remy could just tell that she was nervous. Aside from the strained laugh and the fierce grip on the case, he could just feel the nervous energy cascading off of her. Yet, she had an air of strength about her as well, and that was something that Remy liked very much. He could tell a strong woman just by the way she stood. Yeah, this femme was nervous, but both of her feet were firmly planted on the ground keeping her perfectly balanced, her back was straight with her shoulders square, and she wasn't giving up any of her personal space to the man that was flirting with her. She wasn't even leaning her head in to make it easier for him to whisper to her. Rogue had stood very similar to that when he'd first met her.

Remy sighed and took another swig of whiskey at the thought of his past love. Rogue. The pair had finally ended it for good, and it had seemed like forever to get over it. At least for Remy it had. Without much warning, Rogue had gone and run off into the arms of Magneto. The ability to create a magnetic/static force field around himself so that Rogue could actually touch a man without draining him dry, had been impossible for Remy to compete with. And it had been almost impossible for the X-Man himself to get over Rogue. He'd spend most of his time getting trashed in the first few months. Gambit would down a fifth of whatever, break into the Danger Room and have a go at training sessions with all the safeties off. Luckily, it was usually Wolverine who would find him afterward slumped down on the floor wallowing in his own blood and untamed tears. Remy was thankful that Logan was so discreet in those moments. He'd usually help Gambit find his feet and send back to his room to sleep it off or on a few occasions, he'd lift Gambit's battered body and personally carry him to the med lab. Wolverine always came up with an expert lie to keep Henry from reporting the "accidents" to the Professor or Cyclops, their team leader.

Next came the anger. First it was at Magneto, for stealing his love away. After Remy sat dumbly in his own room with some of his precious belongings smashed to smithereens a few times, he decided to break into Magneto's own private base. He managed to mess up anything he could get his hands on, including Magneto's prized Bentley. Gambit new the guy could afford to fix it, and wouldn't even give him the pleasure of confronting him about it, but it still felt good to do it. Plus, Gambit made sure that the car would never be the same again, especially with the permanent smell he had made sure would never be able to get pulled out of the interior.

Remy popped out of his thoughts for the moment and chuckled over the memory of dumping a gallon of spaghetti sauce of the back seat and grinding it in with his boots. Yeah, he was over Rogue and he was no longer angry at Magneto, but that still didn't mean that he would ever like the guy.

For a short time after he stopped blaming "the other man" Rogue had fallen for, Remy started to focus on himself and all of his own faults. He secluded himself from the rest of the team and wound up sleeping for days on end. Ororo had tried to counsel him on it, but nothing was working. It was just another phase of grief that Remy just had to get through himself. It also didn't really help when Rogue herself tried to step in. She had hoped that setting up a double date might do the trick. It was a disaster that ended up with Remy becoming so furious with her that he spent a few nights calling her at ungodly hours just cursing at her and spitting any kind of venom he could think of through the receiver. That was the part he regretted the most. While he spent his time hating her, she just patiently waited for him to move on and never once took a chance to get one of her own shots in. Only every once in a while she would say, "Oh Remy. Ah know you're hurtin', but ya know this is for the best. We weren't workin' togetha. We tried Sugah…" The hardest part was that he knew she was right.

It was difficult for him to sleep for a long time after that. Some nights he would just lie awake examining every part of their relationship. He would search over and over again for that one moment where everything went wrong. That one moment, which he later found out had never really existed, plagued him. He wanted to fix things, put it all right again, but he couldn't. The only way that Remy could find sleep would be to bundle up all his pillows and blankets next to him to resemble a sleeping Rogue. He would wrap his arms around them as gently as he had cradled her in the night. He'd imagine only her as he softly whispered into the pillows where her ear would be, "Rêves doux, mon amour". ("Sweet dreams, my love) Even then, he still couldn't sleep peacefully. His dreams were always invaded by her. It was enough for him to have to battle off Sinister all the time, but Rogue joining all the fun in his head was impossible.

For almost a year he had been a complete mess.

But just how summer sneaks up on a person as they wish for it through the whole winter and then suddenly there it is, one day Remy woke up in his bed and he was just over all of it. He would always love Rogue, but he was finally able to let her go and live his own life without her. He'd even decided that being single wasn't so bad. For a little while, he'd had a different woman every night of the week in his company. While that was fun, it did get a little exhausting after a while, so he gave it a break.

Remy did the math in his head and realized it had been almost 2 years since Rogue had left him. At this particular moment, he wasn't seeing anyone specific and he hadn't officially gone out on a date in a few months. It was kind of nice having time all to himself. He could do anything and go wherever he wanted. It didn't mean he wasn't still admiring all the femmes though, as he came out of his thoughts and focused back on the lovely woman standing at the corner of the bar.

She was glorious and magnificently tall. She wasn't quite the height of Remy's 6'2" frame but she had to be at least 5'10" if she wasn't wearing any heels. Her look was enticingly exotic. Her raven black hair was thick and voluminous as it cascaded over her shoulder into tousled curls halfway down her back. The sharp steel cut features of her face were softened by her creamy and incredibly soft-looking skin. Remy's fingers almost ached with the want to brush them along her face. The rest of her body was perfectly proportioned in his opinion. She had a sweetly curved bosom, a small waist that slowly widened at her hips to support the curve of a backside that could make a man weep, and long, lean bronze-kissed arms and legs. If looks could kill, this femme would be a professional in all rights, especially with those cold, icy blue eyes of hers. Remy almost felt dizzy staring into them. They were so pale and bright that they nearly glowed. Simply put; She was stunning.

Remy's mouth started to water as impure thoughts quickly began to invade his utterly male brain. He looked down into his whiskey glass for a distraction, and in one huge gulp finished the last swallow in a hurry. He wiped away the slight sheen of sweat that had begun to bead on his brow and fumbled with his shades to be sure they were still in place. He groped in the deep pockets of his duster and pulled out a wad of cash. Loosely, he separated a few bills to what should be the appropriate amount to pay his bill and leave a decent tip, and threw them down underneath his glass. It was time to turn in for the night. He couldn't help but steal one last glance at the fiery femme. Remy was very taken with her and if he stayed any longer, he might attempt a pass at her. Not that he was too shy to do so, but he had a feeling the loser taking her attention wouldn't appreciate it. And Remy could not afford to start a bar fight here tonight. He wasn't stupid. This wasn't a mutant joint and he had no backup.

As Remy feasted on the way her short, black leather dress hugged her curves, another man walked up to the pair from behind the bar and gestured for them to follow him. The playboy stood and offered the woman the crook of his arm. She blushed ever so slightly as she shifted the briefcase to one hand and allowed him to lead her with the other. She flicked her neck and whipped her hair back as they travelled the length of the bar behind the new man. Just before they turned toward a door that obviously led to a private room, the lady's eyes broke into Remy's line of sight. In that one moment, she had lifted her head and scanned the back of the room. Her shining eyes instantly locked onto Remy. It was brief but the look she shot at him was as if he had been caught stealing from the cookie jar. She slipped him a slightly coy smile and winked as she turned and went through the doorway. The guy with her was a complete idiot, thought Remy. He had no clue that he'd lost her attention for just a few seconds, and that attention had been given directly to Remy. As the pair disappeared into the private lounge, Remy rose up on unsteady feet and adjusted his trench coat. He wobbled a little and noticed that his balance was off from all the drinks, or perhaps it had been the fine-looking femme. He double-checked that his aviators were still in place. How had she known he was staring?

He smiled, gave a nod to Brian, and stumbled out of the bar. Oh yeah, he'd be catching a cab tonight.


	3. If I Never See Your Face Again, I Don't Mind.

Remy expertly pushed a breath of air out of his lungs as he hefted his body up, yet again, with the strength that was left in his fatigued biceps. Slowly, he lowered himself back down and this time he let go of the bar. He turned to grab a towel to wipe the sweat off his face. He gave his unkempt auburn hair a shake and decided he had done enough training for the afternoon. 80 pull ups in a row were quite a physical feat for the day. Plus his stomach rumbled in agreement. Remy's lean, chiseled muscles gleaned with sweat as he toweled his chest dry and pulled a fresh white shirt over his head. Luckily, for any lady that might pass by, the fabric of the shirt was tight enough to reveal the definition of his arms and chest. Remy nonchalantly picked up the phone in the gym to hit the speed dial for Fatty's Pizza. With the mansion basically empty, besides the Professor and Dr. McCoy, Remy was excited to have a supreme pizza with double meat to devour all by himself.

The main reason it was so quiet was that it was Spring Break. Most kids usually went home to visit their families. While all the others with less accepting loved ones, were shepherded out on a trip to Toronto with Bishop and Psylocke. Canada was apparently more understanding of mutant children. Jubilee was determined to finally go out on her own and have a "real" spring vacation. The girl was in Cancun, heaven forbid. And although every X-Man enjoyed forcing Logan to go on the special trip with all those kids, solely based on the fact that he was a native to the country, he had plotted early this year to avoid the torture. He was currently at some undisclosed location hunting down someone from his past. Remy thought it was funny how the feral mutant seemed to have a selective memory. Put some really badass dude slashing around like crazy near his face and he remembered the guy in seconds. Put a smoky eyed woman in his tracks and he needed extra time to recall who she was, and extra time meant extra alone time with her at dinner usually. Remy knew a player when he saw one and he certainly admired Logan's game.

A few other X-Men had gone off on their own private vacations. Just yesterday the rest of the team had been called off to Transylvania to search for a young, distressed mutant the Professor had found through Cerebro. Apparently it was urgent, since the townspeople in the area were convinced the kid was Dracula re-awakened.

"Wait til dey get a look at Nightcrawler", was all Gambit had said when Cyclops asked him to go with them. He'd declined because he wasn't getting anywhere near a demon-obsessed mob armed with pitchforks. Not with peepers like his at least. Plus Cyclops already pretty much had a complete team. Jean was going along to help calm the kid down once they found him and to also spend as much time with her husband as she could. Warren was tagging along to help get an aerial view, since the town was located in a very remote and hilly woodland area. Storm was the final member besides Scott and Kurt, and was going to provide a more 'natural' cover from the locals while the team searched.

Scott had wanted Remy to come because of his past and having lived on the run for a time as a child. He guessed Remy would have good instincts as to where the young mutant might hide. But that just wasn't the case, as growing up in the alleys of New Orleans was far different than hiding out in the wilderness. Plus, Gambit wasn't very fond of bugs, as he had told Cyclops for his final decline to the mission.

Mostly on his own in the mansion now, Remy sauntered upstairs to the main level and pulled a box of cards out of his pocket as he flopped down onto the couch in the front sitting area. He wanted to save time. There was a side door for deliveries, but the pizza boys always ended up messing that up. Somehow, they always managed to deliver to the front door. Plus Remy's stomach was now constantly rumbling in reminder of the dire situation and need for pizza right away. He didn't feel like playing 52 card pick up so instead he nonchalantly flicked the cards onto the coffee table to setup a game of solitaire. Remy methodically picked away at the cards as each minute slowly ticked away on the old, ornate wall clock. Close to ten minutes later, the chime on the front door went off and Remy was so excited that he just grabbed a wad of cash from his duster and bounded over the couch towards the door. This was only going to take a second. Grab the pizza, throw the cash, shut the door and the deal would be done; pizza-eatin' time!

Remy whipped the front door open with a dramatic flair. He was in motion to underhand toss the money when he looked up and stopped dead in his tracks. Glowing, icy orbs of blue were locked onto his eyes; the same ones from last night. For a brief second Remy wondered if they would melt if she stared too long into his hot coals. ' _Merde!'_ he thought, he'd abandoned his shades downstairs while he'd been working out. Remy ducked is head down as fast as he could and clumsily shouted out, "Deliveries go to de side door homme." And without wasting another moment he slammed the door shut and leaned heavily against the back of it just in case for some reason the strange, yet very beautiful, woman was to try and rush in anyway. He immediately realized that he was breathing heavily. He just stood there pondering. _'Dat was de femme from last night! How'd she find me and what de heck is she doing here!'_

Remy's heart was beating a million miles per second. If this woman had tracked him down from the bar to here and had gotten enough time to notice he was a mutant, then he'd be in big trouble with the Professor. The school itself was a cover within a cover. It was not only a place for young mutants to harness their powers while having a safe place to grow up, but underground was the base for Xavier's team; the X-Men. For all the outside world knew, it was just a school for gifted youngsters, as in higher learning. Not flying and blowing up shit as well.

The front door chime ringed again and Remy snapped back into action. "Um excuse me?", came the woman's voice. It was smooth as honey even as she attempted to shout through the thick front door. "Uh. I'm not a delivery unfortunately. Well…and plus there's no signage as to where this side entrance might be." There was a long pause as Remy continued to decide what to do. "Anyway, um, I have an appointment with a Professor Xavier…" she halted again, seeming unsure, "at one o'clock...I'm a bit early…."

Remy sighed, she sounded so desperate and forlorn. He glanced around and then remembered that Cyke always kept a spare pair of shades in the coat closet. He dashed over to grab them and pushed the glasses up over the bridge of his nose just to be sure of their placement over his odd eyes. His heart and breathing had mostly slowed down so he opened the door again. The woman had just begun to turn away but snapped back in his direction at the sound of the door groaning with the motion of being opened. The sun was bright today so she had to cover her eyes with her hand in order to see Remy. _'Good',_ he thought, _'she prob'ly didn't catch dis ole' cajun's eyes.'_

"Ah yes, hello!" she spoke.

"So de Professor, eh?"

"Xavier, yes," she nodded.

Since Remy now had a chance to get a good look at her again he noticed that other than her eyes, she looked very different from the night before. Her long tousled, raven black hair was now slicked back and imprisoned in a tight bun. Her eyes were framed by a pair of dark, square spectacles and she wore a black blazer with a knee length skirt. The only skin showing was her shapely calves and just a bit of her decolletage. She looked very executive, but Remy didn't mind, she was still the hottest looking nerd he's ever seen! Plus she was still sporting a pair of black mile high heels, which helped to put her just about to Remy's eye level. _'Damn dis broad is tall!"_ he thought to himself. From the way she was now looking at him, with her brow furrowed and head cocked to the side, it was obvious she didn't recognize him. That also meant that she really was here on business.

"Won't I come in?" she spoke. Remy blinked and realized that he'd been staring too long.

"Ah, Oui. Won't you?" He stepped to the side and gestured inside with his arm.

"Don't mind if I do. Thank you." Her heels clicked on the marble flooring, but she didn't go any farther than just inside the door. She felt almost uncomfortably close to Remy and he finally noticed she was carrying a briefcase.

"Here let me take dis for you." He offered. She blushed a bit and replied, "Oh, I'd prefer not. Professor Xavier? Is he available now perchance?"

' _Man dis is getting awkward'_ thought Remy, _'Better go get Charlie.'_ "Sure, let me go get him. Just wait here." He said. With that, Remy calmly turned the corner and as soon as he was out of her sight, dashed over to the Professor's study.

Charles Xavier was at his desk preparing his third quarter lesson plans for the psychology class he taught. True, his X-Men, like Logan and Gambit, taught the students how to fight for themselves and hone their mutant skills. However, he preferred to teach them to expand their minds. He did his best to intellectually challenge the children, so he always meticulously charted out intense class sessions. His work was suddenly interrupted by a very familiar, Cajun voice. "Hey Prof. You got somebody wait'in for you out front."

Xavier closed the binder he had been flipping through and replied, "Ah yes, my meeting with Professor Vargas." He glanced up at the wall clock in is study. It was barely noon. "He's quite early. I wasn't expecting him for another hour." The mansion's resident thief chuckled a bit and then tapped on his noggin. "Looks like you ain't payin' much attention. It be a she." At that statement, Xavier scanned the grounds as light as a feather with his mind and smiled when he realized he had been caught off guard since he now only sensed a new female presence. "Hm. Curious.", he said to Gambit as his hover chair silently maneuvered its way into the corridor. As they made their way down the hall, Xavier filled Gambit in on the situation. "I see you had sense enough to put some sunglasses on and I would suggest that they remain on until after this appointment is through. These are just regular people I am dealing with today. They have no idea who and what we are. Normally, I wouldn't even allow such a meeting on the grounds but with mostly everyone gone, I didn't see a problem. Plus, I have some questions that I need to ask Professor Vargas, or whoever it is he has sent in his stead." Gambit nodded to the Professor as they turned the corner and entered the main front room where the mysterious woman had sat herself down in the exact spot Remy had been playing solitaire. She was gently lifting the cards and setting them into place. By the looks of it, from Remy's vantage point, she was close to winning the round.

The Professor cleared his throat and she went rigid as if she had been caught stealing candy. The woman stood and walked around the couch in order to offer the Professor her hand while the other carefully clutched her briefcase. "Hello Professor Xavier my name is Claire Banks and-,"

"My meeting was to be with Professor Vargas," he interrupted without accepting her outstretched hand. She immediately realized her error in being so forward and so withdrew her hand. Yet she had not quite yet given up. "Correct," she replied, "However, my employer had to leave for Egypt quite unexpectedly. An excavation project of his over there had a major development that he had to attend to. I'm his personal assistant, and before he left he provided me with all the necessary materials for this meeting."

The Professor sensed no lie in her explanation so he backed down a bit on the intensity. "Well, as much as I appreciate that Miss Banks, I'm a very busy man, even during school recesses. I would have preferred a phone call more. I'm sure the good Professor could have arranged one of those as well."

She sighed, "I do apologize, sir. I'm positive he could have called but I'm quite sure that he intentionally did not in order to keep this meeting from be canceled or rescheduled. He's a busy man too and he's on a tight schedule. It's imperative that we meet."

"Alright then, follow me." Xavier gestured for Gambit to follow as well. "Miss Banks, this is Mr. Lebeau, the head of my security detail." S he turned towards Remy and held her hand out at the introduction. "Pleasure," she said. "Oui," he replied as he gently shook her hand. _'Oh god, her hands are as smooth as dey look'_ he thought absentmindedly. Xavier took over the conversation as he led the group down the hallway. "Mr. Lebeau will be waiting outside while we are in our meeting. Once finished, he will escort you out."

"Agreed," said Claire.

They all arrived at the study and the Professor ushered Miss Banks inside, all while sending Gambit a mental message to stay alert. Remy wasn't fond of letting Charles mentally project anything to him, but if it meant more time learning about this woman, then he was happy to oblige. Something about her just sent him all a-twitter, and he simply couldn't get enough.

Xavier shut the door behind him as Claire seated herself in the modest leather chair in front of his desk. She gently set her briefcase down on top and she graciously waited for him to adjust his hover-chair just behind it. Then she began, "Well you see Professor Xavier, my employer is in need of a detailed list of all documented mutants and he is under the impression that you may have one."

Charles rested his elbows on the sturdy desk and slightly leaned forward. He let his hands touch at the fingertips just below his chin. "I am well aware what it is he is looking for", he said, "What I don't know is why. From what I've heard of Professor Vargas, which is very little, he apparently collaborated a few years ago with a man named William Stryker. I'm not pleased with this. I would like to make it clear to you Miss Banks, I do not approve of any of Stryker's experiments and I am wary to assist any of his former colleagues. Especially with anything regarding mutants."

Claire knew this would be a difficult discussion so she was prepared to defend her position. "I completely understand your apprehension sir, but let me assure you; Professor Vargas never worked with or for Dr. Stryker. He was simply pursuing information. The same information he is looking for from you now: a list of all known mutants. He actually found Stryker's experiments to be very distasteful himself."

Xavier held his ground. "Be that as it may, even if I had a list of mutants, how could I be sure that he has no intention of using it for ill?"

"Well there's no actual way to prove it short of trusting his word." Claire was getting bolder. "Look, Professor Vargas knows that you are a leading man in the mutant rights movement. He is willing to make a trade with you for the list." She tapped her cargo on his desk. "In this briefcase I carry official case documents from Stryker's experiments that my employer has obtained. They are very detailed and they are all legitimate originals either signed by Stryker himself or written on legal government paper. It could all be useful to you in your political fight against him…"

Xavier let the tension build. He knew she had reviewed them and he knew that there was a lot of legally binding information inside. But he also knew, without sensing it from her, that in a court case it would all find a way to fall through. Stryker was the government's most favorite pet and it would do close to anything in order to protect him. Having those case documents could all but be useless to the Professor.

Claire did her best to dangle some better bait and clicked open the briefcase. She pulled out a black, weathered leather journal. It had an infinity symbol burned into the front cover. "I am also in possession of the Destiny Diaries. Heard of them?" She waited only a moment and continued, "Apparently these are journals written by a certain mutant who claims to have the power to see into the future. The diaries mostly pertain to the renegade mutant group called the X-Men, but it does give a very detailed perspective as to what will come of the world. Professor Vargas is more than willing to trade both items for a master list of mutants."

Charles Xavier really deplored scanning too deep into people's minds without permission, but in this instance he had to, if only a little. He combed just under the surface of her current thought process and delved into the sector that held memories and thoughts of Vargas. He saw a brief meeting of the two with Vargas giving her instructions of what to say. He saw Vargas open a vault and fill the briefcase with documents. So everything she held actually was an original; that much was true. Claire was telling the truth, but just under the surface he could feel a mistrust that she held towards Vargas. He could sense that this was because she herself had no idea why he was searching for a catalog of mutants. Xavier pondered all of the information. The Destiny Diaries could prove to be useful to his team. He knew enough about them and the mutant who wrote them to be sure that her powers were quite reliable. The mention of the journals mostly involving the X-Men was drawing in the Professor's curiosity. Could he take a risk in order to obtain them? Without knowing what Vargas was looking for, Charles wasn't sure that he could forge a convincing fake mutant list. There was no point in just openly admitting that he actually didn't have a written list of mutants either. Perhaps if he suggested that he might have one, Vargas would remain interested, while Professor X took the time to investigate him more.

Xavier sighed. "I'm sorry Miss Banks, but there is no way that I could risk the safety of hundreds of anonymous mutants just so I could have some predictions written by a mutant who claims to have the ability to see the future. Even if I had a list, of course."

Claire forced a smile. She knew she was now the one being baited. "Of course."

He gestured towards the door and said, "I'm sorry I could not assist you, but feel free to contact me if your employer is in need of anything else. As of right now though, there is nothing more for us to discuss."

She rose from her seat, took the briefcase back in hand, and began to reach for the door. "I'm sorry too. I'm sure Professor Vargas will attempt to contact you again on this matter."

Just before the handle clicked she was cut off from her exit by the Professor. "Miss Banks?" "Yes?" She turned to face him.

"I have no problem with speaking to Professor Vargas himself, but I will not tolerate any more surprises. Nor will I even consider assisting him until he is willing to come completely clean with me. It's unnerving when someone is willing to offer almost anything in order to get information they want. It's even more concerning when their own personal assistant has no idea why either."

Claire's eyebrow slightly lifted at the last statement. She seemed surprised that the Professor had sensed her confusion towards Vargas' project as well. Somehow he had been able to tell that she was completely out of the loop. In an attempt to cover her shock, she simply nodded and replied, "I will inform him. Good day." Then she swiftly opened the door and exited into the hallway with her coveted briefcase.

Remy had lazily propped himself against the wall across from Xavier's study. He had leaned back so deeply that his back was entirely flush to the wall and his long gangly legs were splayed out far in front of him. It was almost as if he was lounging in a reclining chair, only he was still standing. It was very catlike of him to find a very comfortable resting spot all while remaining in the oddest of positions. He'd closed his eyes and rested his head back and to the side with his chin slightly pointing upwards. Remy had no idea how long this strange meeting would take so he had decided to take a risk and light up a cigarette. Smoking was banned inside the mansion, but the way Remy saw it, no one was here right now so where was the harm?

Just as he was slowly releasing the smoke of a long drag, the click of the door handle and the groan of the oak door, startled him back into alertness. He opened his eyes as Claire stepped out into the hallway towards him. He absentmindedly flicked the cigarette out of his fingers and then, too late, remembered that he was standing inside; on carpet no less. He made a sound to berate himself for such a silly mistake that was half hiss, half clicking of his teeth, and then swore along with it. "Merde!"

He shook his head to clear out the cobwebs of napping and scooped up the cigarette butt that was now scorching the carpet where it had landed. _'Couillon'_ , he thought to himself as he fumbled with the red hot butt and the window latch that seemed to stick, at the same time. He knew he must look either insane or like a complete idiot to Claire as she quietly watched his impromptu juggling display. Finally, the hated cigarette butt had been deposited out the window and Remy turned back towards her as he wiped his ashy, burnt fingers on his pants. "All finished 'den?" he asked. "Yes," she said. And Remy noticed for the first time that she seemed a bit flustered.

He began to walk down the corridor, towards the main entrance. She didn't walk beside him; only trailed along behind. Just before they reached the end of the hall that opened up into the voluminous atrium, he turned back to look at her and asked, "Is every'ting alright petite?"

Her head was hanging lower than before when she had first entered the mansion and she had barely been paying any attention to him. She raised only her eyes up and seemed unsure of what to say. She actually looked as if she was dying to break her silence and spit out everything on her mind. But she didn't. Instead she just nodded and said, "I'm sure everything will be fine soon."

A little part of Remy was cringing inside at seeing the beautiful woman so defeated. He finally escorted her all the way to the front door and opened it for her. He made a gesture with his hand outside and gave her one of his spicy Cajun grins. She barely noticed and just muttered a "thank you" his way, then left. A black car, her ride Remy assumed, had been waiting in the driveway. The driver stepped out as Claire approached and opened the back door for her. She gracefully disappeared inside of it with her briefcase. Remy just stood in the doorway and soaked in every last sight he could get of the woman before she escaped his view. _'Claire',_ Remy mused.

As the car moved down the long driveway, Remy felt the Professor maneuver his hover-chair next to him. "So what was dat all about Prof?"

He sighed, "Honestly, Gambit? I'm not quite sure as of yet. She works for a man named Vargas, who is currently searching for information on certain mutants. I have no idea who he wants to find or why, but I intend to find out." With that, Professor X turned himself around towards his study, on a mission to make some phone calls to his colleagues regarding Vargas, and his project in Egypt.

For himself, Remy just stood in the doorway. He'd barely listened to Charles. This woman could very well be dangerous, but Remy couldn't get her out of his head. And when had he ever erred on the side of caution in his life? Claire. He wondered if he might be able to run into her again at Luke's…


End file.
